


After the End

by Zimra



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Gap Filler, Gen, POV Minor Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2015-01-02
Packaged: 2018-03-04 23:41:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3096896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zimra/pseuds/Zimra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three prisoners from Winterfell share a cell in the Dreadfort's dungeons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After the End

The first time the guards came for Palla, Beth clung to her and wouldn’t let go. 

“Please don’t leave me,” she begged, and Palla hugged her tightly before prying herself loose from the younger girl’s grip. 

“I’ll be back soon,” she promised with as much conviction as she could muster, hoping with all her heart that it was true. “Look after Old Nan for me, alright? Don’t let her get lonely.”

Beth nodded, and retreated to sit on the grubby mattress beside the ancient woman, who put an arm around the girl and patted her dark curls. Palla smiled reassuringly at them over her shoulder until the guards dragged her out of sight. 

They brought her to a sort of common room somewhere in the Dreadfort’s dungeons, a plain stone room with a table and a small fire and a cot in one corner, and three men sitting around the table playing cards. They all looked up from their game when their two comrades entered the room, eyeing Palla with interest. 

“Lord Ramsay doesn’t want this one, so we can do what we like with her,” said one of the men who held her. He pushed her towards the cot. “Take off your dress, or I’ll do it for you.”

Palla obeyed, and as one by one the guards had their way with her she gritted her teeth and waited for it to end. _I have been through this before. I bore it then, I can do it now._

When the first two guards half-led, half-carried her back to the cell and dumped her in a heap on the floor, Beth scrambled up from the mattress and ran to her side. “Palla? Palla, you’re hurt!” 

“I’ll be alright. Help me up?”

With Beth’s support, Palla made it to the mattress and collapsed beside Old Nan, who now dozed where she sat, leaning against the wall. Lately the old woman spent more time asleep than not, and even when she was awake she often seemed distant, hardly her usual talkative self. Palla did her best to keep her comfortable; she had half-expected Beth to object to giving their only mattress to an old servant, but the knight’s daughter seemed equally concerned for Old Nan’s health. 

Beth hovered anxiously over Palla for a moment, then burst into tears. “They hurt you, didn’t they? They’re going to do it again. We’re never going to get out of this place!”

“Shhhh, you’ll wake Old Nan,” Palla murmured, though she suspected very little could rouse the old woman from her heavy slumber. Still, it worked, and Beth’s tears turned to quiet sniffles as she lay down on the floor, using the corner of the mattress as a pillow. Palla stroked the girl’s hair and settled back against the wall, trying to ignore the pain. 

“I miss my father,” Beth whispered after a while. “I miss Jory.” Palla’s throat tightened.

“Come here.” She moved over so that there would be room for both of them to sit on the mattress, and pulled Beth into a hug, wincing as the girls arm’s closed tightly around her waist. “I miss my father, too.” She remembered Farlen finding her after the ironmen attacked, helping her walk to the hall and not showing a hint of pain even as he limped along on his own wounded leg. She remembered him telling Theon Greyjoy to execute him with his own hands, as Lord Eddard had always done. The traitor had missed and hit Farlen between the shoulders, and even when he finally found his mark it took him three blows to finish the job. Because of his cowardice, Palla had watched her father die slowly and in agony. 

Before she knew it she had begun to cry, and Beth was looking up at her with wide, worried eyes. Palla pulled the younger girl closer, taking deep breaths to steady herself until she had brought her own emotions under control. She was the older one, and Beth was counting on her to be brave, to keep all of them safe. 

She kissed the top of Beth’s head, then said, “Come on, let’s try to get some rest.” The two of them carefully moved Old Nan so that she was lying down on the mattress, covered her with the cell’s only blanket, then curled up together in a corner, huddled close for warmth. Beth nuzzled against Palla and fell asleep almost at once, whimpering occasionally in her dreams. Palla lay awake longer, her body still throbbing. 

Farlen’s last words to her before the ironmen had taken him away ran through her head. _You’re a good child, and I love you. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. Be strong for me, my girl._ His hands had been bound behind him, but she had hugged him as tightly as she could, and he had kissed her forehead. 

Palla wrapped her arms around Beth and closed her eyes. _I’ll be strong, I promise._


End file.
